It Isn't That Hard
by Deathberry Love
Summary: RyoSaku. Tennis isn't that hard for Ryoma but he IS romantically challenged. He wants to do something for someone important and gets help from none other than SOMEONE to surprise a certain somebody.


Summary: We all know how romantically-limited Ryoma is, but he's not totally oblivious

**Summary:** We all know how romantically-limited Ryoma is, but he's not _totally _oblivious. He wants to do something – but what? He asks someone for help…

**Author's Note:** This was a very sudden RyoSaku Fic that came to my mind (: It might be a _little _rushed as I haven't had ideas in a long time and was eager to complete a fic. So anyway, read, enjoy and review! Flamers, suggestions or praise is warmly appreciated (:

**Disclaimer: ** I doubt Takeshi Konomi would be writing on xD

--…--

"Bend your knees more. Lower your racket. Level out your strength. Concentrate on where you're aiming. Don't swing your whole body so much, you don't need to at this stage."

"H-hai!" the long, reddish-brown braided her girl clumsily lurched in all directions, hitting the tennis ball into a million different spots on the training wall whilst a bored dark-green haired boy lazily sat on a nearby bench, hand supporting chin, calling out suggestion and criticism once in a while, monitoring her half-heartedly through glazed eyes.

Why? _Why_ had Ryuzaki-sensei passed on the job of teaching her _own granddaughter _tennis to Echizen Nanjiroh - who brushed it onto him?

Had he offended the Gods of Tennis in some way? Then he mentally berated and slapped himself for being so mean – he was after all, an average, _polite _Japanese boy. It wasn't her fault that she was bad at tennis – though why was she so stubborn to continue it?

He sighed as she missed another swing and toppled forwards, landing with a hard bump.

"Ow-ouch…" she mumbled to herself as she pulled herself up, brushing off dirt and inspecting the red scratches with a slight grimace. A shadow darkened her arm. She looked up. He had slouched over.

"You okay?" he asked with a bored expression, hands in pockets.

She immediately turned a faint rosy red and automatically swung her arms behind her. "Of – of course! I'm fine! I'm fine!" she attempted a feeble smile but she couldn't ignore the obvious look of monotony in his eyes. "Should we – should we end it here?"

He shrugged though he was clearly willing "_Yes_."

They walked back to the bench where she stuffed her racket away and wiped sheen of sweat from her forehead, neck and face. It was a swelteringly hot day and the sun bore down without mercy; even Ryoma who was merely sitting without moving had little beads of sweat glistening over his forehead. He glanced over at her. She was a little out of breath, her red scratches still apparent on her pale skin. She _had _improved slightly over the span of two weeks. Perhaps he could treat her to a can of Ponta.

"Thanks Ryoma-kun!" she sat next to him, cradling the grape Ponta can in both hands, her head slightly bowed to hide away the furious blush of pink.

"Hnn." Was his reply as he calmly took a sip from his own. "By the way, I saw your racket just now – you need new grip tape that's better than the one now."

"I – where – I don't know…" how the hell would _she _know where to get good quality grip tape?

"You'll find it somewhere." He said vaguely. They lapsed into silence again.

"So – I…um…what was wrong with me today?" she questioned in a stab at conversation.

He gave her an odd look.

"I – wrong…wrong with my tennis." She amended hurriedly when she caught his idiom.

"Oh. It's doing okay for your level but you've really got to _bend your knees_."

She flushed at his repetitive instruction. It was fresh on her mind always but she just couldn't seem to do it.

"Sorry, Ryoma-kun! But I just can't seem to do it!" she burst out.

He arched an eyebrow. "It's isn't that hard." He stated.

She looked down at her lap again then with a plastered on smile she looked at him again and said with a falsely cheery tone. "I'm not very good at tennis, am I?" she said it painstakingly, ignoring the self-disappointment welling up inside her. She had taken up tennis herself – it wasn't because she was Ryuzaki Sumire's granddaughter – or that her interest was a total pro at it. She had her own interest and desire in tennis – despite her failure.

He rounded on her, taken aback. "I – I didn't mean it like that. You're doing fine."

She gave a shaky laugh and used one hand to scoop back some loose tendrils from her braids behind her ears to distract herself. "I expect nothing's hard for you, right Ryoma-kun? I mean, besides – besides tennis."

He didn't reply. Had she said something wrong? She looked directly at him, his eyes seemed to be unfocused (a very un-Echizen-Ryoma-ish-thing), and he seemed extremely distant.

"Ryoma-kun?"

He gave a start then lowered his cap to regain composure. "Oh – oh um…yeah…I guess…"

"You guess?"

He returned her curious gaze. Sakuno's heart started thumping madly. His eyes seemed…_fixed _on something, on his one and only problem or something. They remained staring into each other's eyes for a few seconds before he broke it off and resumed staring at the training wall and she returned her eyes to her lap, hazel orbs widened, cheeks heating up and heart beating at peculiar rate.

"I'm not that good at…one thing…" his voice sounded different- softer, gentler and slightly vulnerable.

"Yes?" she mustered strength to look back at him.

He gave a non-committal shrug but ploughed on. "I – well there's this person…she – I mean, this person's done a lot for me and...I want to do something for her to…pay her back…or something…" he trailed off embarrassedly, scratching the side of his nose.

Sakuno's chocolate irises expanded. Echizen Ryoma was talking about a _girl_? She resisted the mental throttle of jealousy. If Ryoma had confided something as personal as that to her, it definitely had to show that he was accepting her as a friend, wasn't it? It was probably the closest she was going to get anyway, she wasn't going to pass this chance because of some unrelated jealousy issue she had raging on inside her.

"So…you want to know how you can repay her – this person."

He nodded.

"What's she done for you?"

He fidgeted. "Um…is that relevant?"

She smiled. It was so strange seeing Ryoma so _different _from his cool, Mada-Mada-dane demeanor, but comforting as in a sense of – as Momo would've put it – _So he is human!_

"To show how much you should do in return." She replied with an encouraging smile.

He reluctantly answered. "She worries about me during matches…though it's sometimes strange, she really tries to help when I'm injured…cooks food for me…she refrains her best friend from depriving me of oxygen…"

Sakuno unwillingly admitted that whoever this mystery girl was – she was one hell of a superwoman. She couldn't help asking. "What kind of personality does she have?"

He pulled down his cap even lower and though he mumbled, she could distinctively hear, "She's shy…way too much for her own good… subjects to all requests and favours…except for one – something about her hair…it's wary teaching her to do something she's not very good at, but it's okay…she blushes a little too much as well but it's okay…I don't know. She's just okay."

Inside Sakuno, she was clenching a fist. Who? _Who _could this significant person in his life be?

But she beamed brightly. "It's okay, Ryoma-kun. Hmm…you could always get her something. Something that she _needs_, that should make her happy."

"Something she needs?" he repeated, his sharp amber eyes registering perplexity and bewilderment.

"You've got to find that out yourself. But you could away just say a simple but meaningful thank you." She suggested. She was pretty proud of herself at being able to offer all these suggestions. She had been grilled with Tomo-chan's lectures on topics like these so much that she could authorize a whole book of "How Guys and Girls Should Treat Each Other".

"'Thank you'…" he echoed distantly.

She couldn't help a small smirk and she tilted her head to one side, observing him through amused eyes. "It isn't that hard."

He raised his head, a flash of that kiddy, that's-not-fair- annoyance on his face.

She suddenly realized that droplets of blood had been running from her elbow onto her white tennis skirt. She gave a little cry.

"I – I didn't realize it was bleeding! And I didn't bring any bandages! Sorry, Ryoma-kun! Thanks for teaching me today! See you tomorrow at school!" she had quickly got to her feet, grabbed her bag and raced off from the courts.

He looked intently at her disappearing figure wordlessly, a little crease between his eyebrows.

--…--

"Sakunooooo!!"

Her best friend glomped her before she could even set one foot into the classroom. She winced as Tomoka accidentally clashed with her cuts and scratches from yesterday.

"My bad!" Tomoka exclaimed as she released Sakuno. "Anyway, there's something on your desk!"

"What?" Sakuno clutched her school bag and made her way over to her single desk. She slid the bag down under the desk.

A tiny black box with a small folded piece of paper underneath was sitting on the beige top.

"What is it?" she turned to her hyperactive friend who was literally bouncing around her, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"I don't know!" Tomoka clamped her shoulders and said excitedly, "Open it!"

She slowly lifted the black top and her eyes stared at what was inside in bemusement. It was a square glass container; inside sat a roll of what looked like – _black tape_.

Sakuno gasped. Tomoka, however, was not impressed.

"Ne, why would someone give you tape?"

"It's grip tape." She retorted mechanically, hazel eyes still fixed on the small circle. She lifted it out of the box, below were a few bandages. She swiftly enclosed it again, and half finding it hard to breath, unfolded the note.

Her smile lit up her eyes at once.

_Thank you._

**Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed that! It's kinda short I know, but this was like written at around 12:01 am –not exactly my let's-write-long-long-chapters-mode. Anyway – press that little button down there (:


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